How the Firelord Loved His Daughter
by WineInAnOpenWound
Summary: "At an awful time like this, it right say something, a soothing word perhaps. However, Zuko didn't. For, while he hated to think about or admit it, he had the same emotional fragility as she did. He knew his daughter, Izumi, hated him. At this point, all his comforting would ever do is make her despise him even more." Twelve years after 100 year war. Contains spoilers for comics.


**Note:** Contains spoilers from _The Promise_ , _The Search_ , and, _Legend of Korra_.

* * *

If someone was to tell someone else in Republic City that Firelord Izumi and her father were once distant from each other emotionally, no one would ever beleive them. It seems to everyone who knows of that duo that there was never a closer relationship between a father and a daughter. However, there was a time, short but still prominent, in which Firelord Izumi and Lord Zuko were at terrible relations with each other and then became the closest of friends. It started late in the summer about twelve years following the hundred years war.

There were several things tearing apart his insides at that moment, but there was one tiny little detail made him feel as if he had no more insides to tear apart. It was his daughter, Izumi. She had situated herself in front of the turtle-duck pond and was looking off melancholy in the distance. She was silent. It was a dangerous silence. One that made most think twice about approaching the creature, who, at the time, seemed as fragile as rose in winter. A single teardrop would tear her bit by bit and melt her.

At an awful time like this, it right say something, a soothing word perhaps. However, Zuko didn't. For, while he hated to think about or admit it, he had the same emotional fragility as she did. It was a poor result of bottling up overwhelming emotions. He'd done so well since yesterday, acting as a hard-faced stoic. It was like nothing of such shattering proportions had even happened, even though it did. But the dam would break soon, he could sense it deep down inside of him, in the places where it ached.

He stared deeply at the pitiful thing. He knew she hated him. At this point, all his comforting would ever do is make her despise him even more. So he remained silent and statue like. He was standing a distance off from her at the other end of the royal gardens, in one of the open-air hallways. He looked toward the sky which was clouded and white, but the weather remained warm and cheerful. It was a twisted, ironic mockery. He gently put his hand on the rail, knowing that talking to his daughter would only make the bottle open and spill, hurting both his pride and his heart.

After a still, thick silence, he saw Izumi get up and leave the gardens. To him, it seemed she had left probably because the warm, happy energy that emitted from the gardens discouraged her and made her feel worse. She was only five. Until this point, she didn't know of true agony or loss. He was twenty-eight and he had experienced a good deal of both.

Why? He would think. Why? He thought that after all of these years of restless suffering, of blank, blurry destinies, he had finally found true peace and happiness. He found his long-lost mother and along with her new family, who loved for him and cared for him, unlike the family he grew up with. And, after a never-ending series of heartbreaks and the breaking of hearts, he finally found someone he could call a soulmate.

Her name was Kiniho. She was a gentle, caring, and soft spoken girl who had a tiny bit of a self-confidence issue. One of the things that he most remembered about her was her deep love for little kids. Every time he would visit her when they lived apart, she would always be playing with her little brother or teaching the children in her village how to read. She seemed to have a deep concern for their educational welfare. He admired her maternal care for the weak and the helpless. And her whole serenity and gentleness she had when she was teaching those village children was something that had reminded him of his own mother and therefore drew him towards Kiniho.

He always thought that she let criticisms and lack of motivation get to her head. It was probably the second most annoying thing about her in his mind. The first was that when they became closer she would wrap both her arms around one of his arms and sort of cling onto it like a leech. He remembered he told her stop one day, and she looked very hurt when he told her so. While she obeyed his command without a complaint, he let her cling on to him anyway since that seemed to be so important to her.

She came from a town not too far from Hira'a. In fact he met her on a visit to his mother, while Kiniho was visiting her own family in Hira'a. They had awkwardly bumped into each other in the street and ended up tumbling to the ground. Highly embarrassed, she ran away without saying anything, but a few hours later she came to Ursa's home to apologize, because it was only polite to say you were sorry for tripping over the head of state. Ursa, seeing an opportunity to have her son "meet other people" (by that she meant find a girl so that she could have grandchildren faster [or at all!]), invited Kiniho over to dinner. At first, the poor girl refused, but eventually Ursa coaxed her into joining them.

That dinner would have been terribly awkward if she didn't ask Kiniho where she was from and what she was doing, because that started a conversation which included Zuko in it. If it wasn't for that conversation, Zuko and Kiniho wouldn't have wanted to see each other again, then they wouldn't have been friends, then they wouldn't have fell madly in love with each other, then they wouldn't have started dating, then they wouldn't have got engaged, then they wouldn't have married, then they wouldn't have had sex, then she would have never gotten pregnant with Izumi, then Izumi wouldn't have been born, and the Fire Nation would not have it's glorious leader that it does today.

After they had married, he felt like his world was turned into a lovely, fuzzy haze of happiness. His new family soothed the pressures and responsibilities of the throne and gave him an excuse to occasionally take a break from them. He adored his new daughter and equally adored his wife. It was like nothing could go wrong. Of course some things did, mostly to do with an underlying poor health issue that his wife was developing, but those things were outnumbered by the happy things that were occurring. For once, life was good. Life was whole. Life was worth living again. There was joy. For the most part, it was absolutely unexciting, but it was pleasant. And pleasant boredom is much nicer than unpleasant excitement.

Many times though, happiness in it's purest, gentlest form is too good to be true. When Izumi was nearing the end of her fifth year, Kiniho's health worsened to an extreme level. It started with coughing. Not just any coughing, endless coughing that didn't go away. Then she began to tire easily, too easily. But even with the miserable fatigue and perpetual cough, she was well enough to make by and talk with her daughter and husband. Then came the blood. The blood that ran out of her mouth by means of violent hacking. It was a horror and a shock to everyone. Soon, she was bed ridden with fevers and coughing spells. She became incredibly pale and thin. At this point, Zuko knew in his heart that it was over. The hazy joy and peace he felt was coming to a cruel close.

She died about a month after Izumi turned five. Much to Zuko's relief, she passed in her sleep. However, she left behind a now five year-old daughter and a husband who had experienced so much troubles and had just lost the peace and joy he worked so hard to find.

He tried to stay strong and stone-faced after the terrible incident. He had foreseen Kiniho's death ever since Izumi was a baby, but still deep in his heart he didn't really accept the reality. The struggle would never end, no matter how much he thought it could. It was never really over when he found his mother and married his love, that was just a distraction, a facade from the truth. That was it. It was nothing more of a sweet tasting sugar coat that lasted but only a few years before you taste the bitter, raw underlying root. _But why me?_ He would think to himself. _But why me? Haven't I had enough?!_

Then he thought, _Why am I thinking so damn selfishly, what about my daughter?_ For her the toils of life were only beginning. She had never felt any trauma or deep pain before like he had. She knew nothing of "the struggle." She knew of two doting parents, even more so doting grandparents, and an over-excited, bubbly aunt. There, inside of her, was no trauma, no lack of love. Everything in her was safe, sound, and happy.

 _So, what..._ He would wonder to himself, _...is she feeling right now?_ He knew she was always more closer to her mother. Since, her mother was around and available to her all day and every day. He, meanwhile, was a bit more distant, mostly because of the demands his throne gave him and the fact that he was practically setting up a new country over seas. That in itself was quite complex. So how does she feel about being stuck with her father, a man whom she never really knew? He didn't know how she felt and did not want to dwell on it too much.

It was then that he decided to leave the premise of the gardens, until a young girl, probably sixteen years of age came up to him. It was his half-sister, Kiyi.

"Hey," she began in a quiet way, which was unusual for her, "Zuko?"

"Hi, Kiyi." He smiled for he felt a very dear affection towards the girl, but he did so weakly. He hadn't smiled in awhile.

"Talk to her." It was a demand, but a gentle one. One that was not so much a demand, but a simple rule of the universe everybody knew. She was only reiterating it.

He sighed deeply, "I don't know..."

"How could you say that?" she wasn't as gentle and quiet anymore, in a way that was a relief, "She needs you right now! Look, I know that you're having a terrible time, but she is too! Don't leave her to go cry alone! What's the matter with you." she then abruptly hit him on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured half-regretfully and half-sorrowfully with his head low.

"Yes, you better be sorry," she further scolded.

He nodded, staring at the floor. The stone in it was beginning to crack and wear. Like him.

She noticed his expression and read it. Now, she was feeling apologetic for being so harsh with him, for being so demanding. Much to the people she comforts' distress, she was one of those girls who hadn't really experienced this type of loss. Only then did she realize, it was not her place to tell her older brother what to do.

"Hey, what I mean is that, Izumi looks really confused and lonely. I think you should-"

He walked away before his half-sister could finish. It was not Kiyi's fault, someone would tell him sooner or later. His mother or her husband would. Or his in-laws, they'd tell him too. So, he was glad that Kiyi told him and got it over with quickly. His mother would try to melt him up a little and that would only make the dam break faster. The dam was falling apart as it is. It didn't need the fire of his mother to help it collapse.

He found Izumi in her bedroom. The room felt like all the other rooms in the palace. Red, gold, huge, practically empty. He wondered why it looked so dismal. She was a five-year old girl, shouldn't it be covered in rainbows and Narwal-Horses? Then again, Izumi never really used this room to do anything but sleep, and she mostly hung around the gardens. So, why bother decorating? The only "decorations" were a couple of candle-lamps giving the room light, since it was nighttime at this point. Was this even room hers?

She was laying on her side in her bed wrapping her arms tight around some sort of stuffed animal. He couldn't tell what it was. Is looked a bit like a boarquipine, if a boarquipine had no tusks or spikes and was really round. She didn't turn to face him when he entered. She just stared at the wall, seemingly fighting back tears.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the worst. He didn't know what to say to her. The last time he talked to her should not be mentioned. However, it is important, so it must.

About an hour after Kiniho's death, his mother told him that _he_ should tell Izumi about her mother's unfortunate fate. His mind, at hearing those words, pretty much went to automatic " _NO! FORGET IT! LET SOMEONE ELSE TELL HER!_ " But he knew he had to. Who else is better to tell her than the one who made her?

He knew what it was like to lose a mother. He especially understood what it was like to not know what happened to her. It was in his full intentions to tell his daughter the whole truth. He didn't want his daughter to have to see him cry, that would only worsen the situation. So, he promised himself there would be not a tear shed when he tells her.

At some point in the day, he got down to her eye level which was painful on his legs, since she was so incredibly tiny. "Izumi," he began.

She could sense something terrible was about to be told to her, because her father never really needed to get down eye-to-eye with her before. She avoided eye-contact.

"Izumi," he was about to tell her to look him in the eye, but this information he was about to relay was enough of an excuse to not do so. He wouldn't want to do it himself, so he didn't make her, "Listen to me. This is about your Mommy." _Conceal it, don't let her know your hurting too,_ he thought to himself.

She still wouldn't look at him. He had the deepest urge to shout "Look at me!" But he didn't. He couldn't finish what he was going to say. The thought just occurred to him that he was going to have to explain to his daughter about death, dying, and the fact that her own mother was an early victim of it. Not now, he couldn't, not so shortly after death itself and not to the face of innocence and obliviousness.

There must have been silence for a long time because she finally looked up at him, "What happened to Mommy?" He could see the raw panic reflecting in her humongous eyes. Her eyes full of not understanding, full of confusion. Damn those eyes. Damn her innocence. Damn her confusion.

He frowned. "She's dead." the words were for some reason harder and colder than he would've preferred them to come out.

"What?" the poor girl was so confused.

"She dead!" he grabbed her shoulders. "That means she's not coming back and you'll never get to see her again!" he had no idea why he was yelling at her. She didn't deserve this. She only wanted to know what happened to her mother. It seemed he was taking his own anger, frustration, and pain on an undeserving victim. Why couldn't he just say she was dead and his daughter would get it. Why did he have to explain to her this. "Your damn mother was sick and she died! That's it! She's gone! Her life's over! Why didn't you even see that coming! Why can't you understa-"

He stopped when he noticed the horror, and the tears in his little girl's eyes. He never really yelled at her like this before. No one really had. Also what he was yelling at her about, that was also pretty terrible. His shoulders and head fell and he knelt down. He couldn't say another word for if he did, he didn't know what would happen.

She managed to choke out, "I-it's okay, I get it, Daddy." Then she ran away most likely to go cry, alone, without her father screaming at her for no reason other than there was no one else to scream at. He knew deep in his heart that she had only said she understood because she didn't want to hear the maddening shouts of her father. She really didn't understand death or if she was really smart, she barely did. In his mind, she hated him now and would never want to talk with him again. And he understood that and accepted that. Maybe it was simply in his genetics to be a terrible father.

Now here he was, standing in the doorway of his daughter's bedroom. It felt like a terrible sin to be there. It was like when she ran away from him that day, that there was an unofficial declaration of "i'm never going to talk to you again" between them both. But he knew he had to. Like the day before. But this time he was going to change his manner of speaking. He closed the door behind him, "Izumi?"

She turned away even further from him. He felt the pain of an arrow stab straight through his soul.

He sat down next to her, "Izumi, I'm sorry. I didn't want to yell at you. I didn't mean to."

She said nothing. A tear slipped from her eye at the memory.

"Izumi," he took in another deep breath, "Please look at me."

She obediently turned her head around. Her eyes were soaking, her face, dirty. Zuko feared for his own emotional stability.

"Izumi, now that Mommy's gone, some things are going to have to change. But, I'll still be here."

Silence. That fact must not have been a comfort to her, she held her doll tighter.

He felt that infamous hot lump in the back of his throat,"Look, your grandparents and your aunt will still be here too! They all love you very much."

Nothing. He was getting desperate at this point, then he thought back. Back to when he lost his own mother, what could've his father said to make him feel better (Oh, I just kicked your mother out because I was sick of her. Don't worry about her, she's probably having a "really good time" with her previous infatuation...). That wouldn't work, say his mother actually did die, what would be something that he would _want_ to hear from his father, (I'm sorry. She's dead, I know you were really close to her, and I know this won't mean anything, since you were never really close to me, but I do still love you).

That sounded about right, so he repeated what he would have desired to hear from his own father, "Izumi, I'm sorry. S-she's not here anymore. I know you-you were really close to her," he felt the rice paper of his emotion shiver underneath his near-tear stuttering, but he held back and looked straight into her eyes, "I know this probably won't mean much to you, since you and I weren't really too close, but," he swallowed hard, "I still love you. A lot."

She looked at him, for a good while. She saw his eyes were glossy and red, he looked like he wasn't feeling good. At all. She didn't really know her father. In fact, she had a respectable fear of the man, which only grew with the "lecture" he gave her the previous day. They sat there for what seemed like a wordless eternity . Their expressions permanent and sorrowful, tired and confused like the ones on statues of olden days.

Izumi could not fight her confusion, her wondering, her innocence, her longing. It was all to much at one time. So, she began to sob into her hands. Suddenly, she lifted her head up, "Daddy?" revealing her wet, red puffy eyes, she sniffled, "I miss her! W-why can't she come back!"

In an attempt to be sympathetic, Zuko tried to take Izumi into his arms and hold her. He saw her mother do this to her once. He was unsure of why, but maybe it would make her feel better. he felt her resistance when he picked her up, but he continued to pull her into his arms until she was locked there. "I don't get it." Her voice became more intense, "Why's she gone!?" Her shouting turned into screaming, "Why!" Her screaming turned into window-shattering hysteria, "Why! Whyyy!" The fires in the candle-lamps were getting bigger.

The screaming was giving him a migraine. "Izumi!" he scolded, "Izumi!"

"Whyy!? I want mommy! Where is she!?"

"Izumi!"

"Why can't she come bahahack!?"

"Shut up!" There was an abrupt silence, the lights shrunk back to their original size. Izumi stared into her father's amber eyes, he stared right back into hers. Her eyes were abundant with fear, his eyes were abundant with anger.

Exhaling, he brought her closer to his chest. Now she was the stuffed animal, "Listen, she's not..not completely gone."

"B-but...you said...that, that...she's n-never coming back. Th-that, I can't s-see her again." Izumi said, her words intermittent with sobs.

He sighed, "Yes, I did say that. But she's still not completely gone."

"How? How?!" She moaned.

"Look," he pulled his daughter back a bit to make eye contact, "As long as you remember your mommy, she will always be with you." Taking yet another deep breath he said, "See, your mommy will be with you right here," he placed his finger on her chest, "in your heart."

Wiping a tear from her eye she asked, "Really?"

He nodded his head. He felt like he was making this up. Like it was just some sort of feel-good phrase you tell to assuage children, the gullible, and the desperate. He hoped that saying it would make him feel better as well, but that didn't work. She was gone. There was no more left of her, or at least that's what he thought until he took a look at his daughter.

She wasn't the copy-cut image of his wife, but she had similar eyes and nose. She also was just as, in his eyes, cute and adorable. His daughter was all he had left of his wife. Kiniho carried this little girl inside of her, gave her life. This insignificant girl was his Kiniho's prized possession. In her he saw Kiniho, like she had buried a piece of her inside Izumi. Zuko lied, his wife wasn't really gone forever. She was still here, inside his daughter. Why did Kiniho still have to be in her? Why couldn't Kiniho have chosen a better host?

He understood his daughter's questioning, "Why? Why?" He was questioning it himself too. What did he know about his daughter? Why did she have to leave a piece of her in her daughter instead of the other way around? Why did this little, insignificant thing have to be here, placed in his care? He couldn't care for her like her mother ever could. Her mother was stuck inside of her, in a horrible, misshapen way. How could she care for her, when in that respect she was gone? What was he going to do with his daughter? How could he care for he when he couldn't even get to know her?He felt something hot and wet slide down his face. His chest felt aching and pained. He took his arm and wiped the tear from his face. But it's like that action only made them keep coming.

His daughter looked up, "Daddy?" Dammit. He did not want his daughter to see him like this, see him in any form of weakness at all. For if her father breaks, what more does she have left to lean on? He put his head down into his hands. He didn't want to, not with his little girl, the little girl he didn't know, sitting right there in his lap. But he did. Firelord Zuko crouched over, miserable, and right in front of his daughter, cried. No, not mourn, grieve, or any other words fancy poets use for "cry," to make it sound noble or manly. No just cry. Like a little baby would.

Izumi crawled out of his lap to give him some space and sat down a few feet away from him on the bed. She wanted to say something. But what could she say? She only was five years old. She barely understood how her Mommy had "died," and her father's mind and heart were miles away from hers. She didn't ask why her father was crying miserably in front of her. She assumed he missed her mommy too, but that's all she knew. She didn't understand why he was crying when he said that she wasn't really gone. Wasn't that supposed to make him feel better?

She never saw her dad ever cry. He shed no tears. He was like a really strong, reliable wall to cry on. But when the wall starts to crumble, you begin to question if it was strong in the first place. To be honest, seeing her father in such a weak position did not decrease, but only increased her fear of him. It was like seeing something supernatural or was scary. She always saw her father as sort of a faraway figure. He was very nice up close and was generally really happy to see her, but he was never a best friend to her like her mommy was. Her mommy was there twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, her father was there more like eight hours a day, three days a week.

But she never would've thought that her mommy was even close to her father. Her father was never close to her. So why would he be close to mommy? She could've sworn that nobody was as close to mommy as she was. But maybe her mommy had seen her daddy cry. Maybe that was just how close they were.

She had seen her mother cry. They were sitting in the garden one day enjoying the lovely scenery. At this time, her mother had a bit of a cough, but was well enough to have a conversation with her daughter (who was quite the intellect at her age). When Izumi asked her mother what an "aunt" was, since Kiyi had recently visited. Her mother said her aunt was her father's sister. Then she asked what a sister was. Her mother tried to explain that a sister was a girl who had the same mommy and daddy as another person. Then she asked why she didn't have any sisters. There was a bit of a pain in her mother's eyes when she said that. Her mother tried her best to explain in tiny, kid-sized words that after she had her daughter her health had slowly started to decline, and it became difficult for her to conceive. (She didn't tell her daughter this, but one time she did conceive, but that pregnancy ended in tragedy. She also didn't tell her that she and her father really did want another one, but circumstance would not allow it) However, she was never able to finish talking her daughter about it, because she began to cry.

"Daddy," she prodded.

He looked in her direction. His face gave her a scare. It was tear-stained. But not just any ordinary kind of tear-stained it was a sort of dirty and miserable kind of tear-stained. She could see how red his eyes became and how his lengthy hair had somehow tangled itself framing his tragic face. She could now clearly see the dark circles under his eyes. And his scar hadn't bothered her before, but now highlighted itself as the pinnacle of the torture he had experienced.

"What?" His voice was cold, sharp, and irritated. It was like an ugly, twisted dagger through her heart.

It seemed like his instinct had blamed Izumi for his sudden sobbing. He really didn't want to go back to being bitter. But that's all he felt. And here she was trying to comfort him in some way, but he was prematurely rejecting whatever she might have to say. It made him feel horrible.

Izumi pulled together from the back of her mind something her mother asked when ever she felt down in the dumps, "Are you okay?"

His eyes melted in a way, a sick, mad way, "Okay?" He stood up, "Of course I'm not okay! Izumi what the hell's the matter with you!" As he walked the door he mimicked her little voice, "Are you okay?" Sharply turning around he faced her, "Izumi! I'm not okay. I just lost the love of my life and here I am, instead of being with her, I'm stuck with you!"

Izumi's lip quivered. The candle-lamps in the room flared up and grew bigger. They reflected on her eyes.

"No, Izumi, I'm not okay, I'm not fine. I'm sick of life at this point."

Izumi curled herself closer together on her bed.

He began to rant on, more to himself than to Izumi, practically unaware his five-year old daughter was right in front of him, "Just when I think I'm out of it! Just when I think I've found peace and happiness, she just decided to get sick and drop dead! She decided to leave me with a stupid kid I don't know what to do with!" The fire in the lamps rose up to an enormous height for a second or two, then died quickly. Moaning, he sunk down to the floor and whispered loudly enough for Izumi to hear, "Why couldn't I die? Why couldn't I have just caught her damn disease and died with her?"

Izumi got up and ran out the room. It was at that moment, Zuko realized the terrible, horrible thing he had just done. It was worse than the day before. He couldn't just let her run off now, he stood up, "Izumi!"

He ran after her, but she seemed to have disappeared into the endless oblivion that was the palace hallways. "Izumi!" he proceeded to call.

 _Why?_ He wondered. _Why did I have to yell like that? I'm her spirits-forsaken father. She hates me now, she's scared of me now._

He felt the tears coming again, this time he didn't fight them, "Izumi," he said to the empty halls, "Izumi, none of what I said was true. Izumi, I love you. It's hard to believe, but I really do love you. Izumi, I'm so sorry. I know, I-I know I'm a terrible father, Izumi. Please, Izumi, forgive me. I'm sorry for all the yelling. I'm so sorry." He continued to run frantically through the halls, "Izumi, wh-when you were born, I was so happy to see you, to meet you. I thought you were one of the greatest things t-that has ever happened to me." He looked down every passageway he found himself sprinting past, "Please, Izumi," he fell on his knees to the ground and he said in a voice so choked with tears that it was barely audible, "Love me back." He then collapsed on the ground.

In the darkness of his dream he heard someone calling his name.

"Zuko..."

He knew that voice. It was a soft spoken voice, one he could recognize from anywhere. It was a voice he thought had gone forever. He turned around, there standing before him was Kiniho. She was wearing nothing. She was absolutely naked. However, he wasn't bothered and didn't seem to mind, he wasn't wearing anything either.

She smiled and reached out her arms, "Sweetheart, come here."

He stood up and did as she told. She embraced him first chance she got, "Sweetheart, I know you're very tired, and I also know your pained so much on the inside. You said you wished you had caught what I had and died along with me. You know, I could do just that. I could take you with me if you want, then you don't have to hurt anymore. You can be with me and the child we lost and you will finally find joy and peace," She let go of the hug, gently placed her hands on his shoulders, and looked into his eyes, "Forever."

Behold, one of the biggest temptation's of Zuko's life. This moment, this offering, flashed him back to about twelve years ago, underneath Lake Laogai. When he had the avatar's bison right in front of him. He remembered his uncle told him he never thought things through. It was pretty much true. But, here, at this moment, he never had more complete control over his own life, it was tempting however, this time, just this once, he would think it through.

He thought of how much anguish he had already gone through. He thought about how much he loved and missed Kiniho. He thought about how devastated he was when he found out that his wife had a miscarriage. He thought about his father in prison, his sister gone missing, his daughter hating him. He thought about his scar and how he wasn't a prodigy like his sister. He thought about the crab-turtle and the hawk story his father told him not too long ago. He thought about how much his life had hurt him.

He then thought of his friends. He thought of everything he and Aang were working for. He thought of his country and what it would do if it's ruler suddenly died with no eligible heir. He thought of his mother and his little sister how destroyed they'd be. At the moment he was so dazed with pain that all of that seemed like small prices to pay, then he thought about his daughter. He thought about how much he didn't know about her, how much he missed her early childhood due to his demanding job as Firelord, how much he wanted to know her and see her grow up, how much it would absolutely suck for both your parents to be dead, and how much he loved her.

He sighed, "Kiniho, I love you. A lot. I want to be with you and...our child and be happy forever. But we have another one. One that needs me right now, our daughter, Izumi. She's already lost a mother, she needs her father."

Kiniho beamed brightly. "Sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

She kissed him on the cheek, "I'm always here with you and with our daughter."

"Oh c'mon, Kiniho, you know that's crap," he gently caressed her face.

She held on to his hand that was against her cheek, "It's not. It's true, I'm here right now, right?"

He chuckled, "Yeah, but that's probably because I hit my head or something, or I'm dreaming."

She giggled, "You say that like dreams aren't real."

"They're not. They're just your mind talking to itself."

"Maybe your right, Sweetheart, but you must truly believe somewhere deep in your heart that it's true, not 'crap'. Because otherwise you would not have seen your mother in that dream you shared with Aang."

"You have a point there." he said looking away sheepishly.

She circled her arms around one of his, like she always did, and said, "Well, Sweetheart, you should be waking now. They're going to worry if you don't."

With that, Kiniho faded off into the distance. And Zuko felt a falling sensation.

At the moment where he would have splattered on the ground his eyes opened. He was in his bed, shirtless and drenched in sweat. His head was pounding.

Beside him, he saw his mother, he then fought out the word,"Mom?"

A look of relief washed over his mother's face, "I'm so glad you're okay! I saw you on the ground in the middle of the hallway, and you had a fev-"

"Where's Izumi?"

"Huh?"

"Mom, where's my daughter?" Inside him he was worrying that his ghostly wife had whisked him away to another dimension where he had no daughter at all, because his mother was looking at him like he was a nut-job.

"She's fine. We had a little talk."

At first, his eyes widened in fear, but then he relaxed and lay back down, "Am I in trouble, mom?"

"Why would you be?" Ursa was occupying her self with meticulously fixing up the bed, which seemed for no other reason than she had nothing else to keep her hands busy.

"You talked with Izumi. She probably told you everything I said."

Ursa nodded her head, "She did tell me a few key things that you apparently yelled at her, but I know your going through a tough time, Zuko."

He leaned his head back, "I still don't think that gives me an excuse to be a jerk and to my own daughter even." He put his hands over his face, "I'm such an awful father!"

"Zuko!" his mother scolded, "Don't say that about yourself! You have a great deal of anxiety and loss right now. You're not an awful father."

"Mom, I shouted terrible things to my daughter for no reason, plus I was rarely home when she was younger." he argued, trying to make his mother understand his horrible parenting. He didn't know why, but he truly felt his mother was defending the wrong side. "I bet she hates me now."

"Dear, she does not hate you. She's only really scared and worried for you. These past few days she's been thinking that your sudden collapse was her fault." Ursa seemed so sincere in this answer.

Zuko meanwhile was scared stiff. This was terrible, she shouldn't blame herself for anything. "Mom, could I see her?"

His mother smiled, "Are you sure, Zuko?"

"Yeah."

She left. He lay there thinking about what he was going to say. He closed his eyes. In the middle of some of his deep thinking, he heard the door open.

Izumi, a little fearful, was ushered into the door by Ursa. He heard his mother whisper coaxingly to the little girl, "Go ahead."

Izumi slowly climbed up onto his bed, "Daddy?"

He opened his eyes, "Yeah."

She gave a very nervous face and looked to Ursa for some sort of confirmation. Beaming brightly, Ursa nodded permissively.

Izumi crawled up on the bed next to her father, "Um..."

"Yes?"

"A-are you okay, now?" It must have taken every last ounce of courage to say that to him.

"Izumi," he began seemingly still angry at her.

She backed away in fear, thinking he'd do more than yell this time.

To her surprise though, her father gave a small smile, "I've never been better."

Izumi gave a small smile back.

From then on, Firelord Zuko was close to his daughter than ever before. Some may say he spoiled the creature, which is true, but he and Princess Izumi became the best of friends nonethless. He loved her with some sort of supernatural parental love. Even so, he was wrong about one major thing. Kiniho did not leave a piece of herself in her daughter alone, she left a piece of herself in her husband as well. She left the piece of herself that could care for her daughter inside of him, because she knew he could do it. Through his decision to take care of her and live for her, her mother gave him the ability to love the way she loved. And even to this day Zuko has not stopped loving his daughter, Izumi, in this very way. That is how people say the Firelord loved his daughter, by loving her like no one else ever could.

* * *

 **Note from the Author to Those Who Are Curious** : I wrote this story originally as a cheap indulgence for myself, but after some encouragement from my sister I decided to rewrite it. I love these characters and the series they hail from, so I decided to make a writing contribution to the fanbase. It was loosley based off a head-cannon me and my sister developed of Izumi not having a mother for the most of her life.

If any are wondering, Mai is not her mother because in _The Promise: Part 2_ , Mai "left" Zuko and is not mentioned again, so the mother is unknown. It may be implied in the comic that Suki and Zuko might get together, since Suki shows concern for him majorly throughout the comics, but Suki and Sokka seemed pretty stable in their relationship. Anyway, Suki is probably just being a good friend. But I decided to create a character that he could fall for and vice-verse. I don't think she's a Sue, but then again, what does the artist know of their own work?

Please, let me know if you enjoyed the work or not. I don't plan to write anymore of this, but I can be persuaded.

Thank you very much for reading.

-Buttershy Jeans


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